"Just tell me why you did it, Skye! I can possibly get you out of this, but you need to tell me why!"
I had never seen my Dad more frustrated with me in my entire life. His face was as red as a tomato and those veins in his forehead protruded out much farther than they should have. His eyes looked like they were filled with tears, but not "pity tears". Angry tears.
I shrugged. I didn't care if I got in trouble at this point anymore. What is my life even worth?
I looked around at the teachers who surrounded me along with my Mom, the superintendent and the principle. If you would have told me a year ago I'd be sitting in this chair surrounded by these people, I would have laughed in your face. But now things aren't so simple.
This room was where the bad kids would go. The notorious long black room with one desk and a chair for the bad kid to sit, and all your teachers and your parents would stand around you trying to decide what's wrong with you and what they can do about it. I used to look down on those kids. But now, this is my 4th time in this room. And I think it's all a bunch of bull shit. Did they ever think that maybe there isn't something wrong with me?
The principle, Mr. Gwenth, a sweet old man who had always taken a liking for me, now seemed cold and hard towards me. It almost made me sick to my stomach to think of losing his respect. He would often invite me to have lunch with him in his office and we'd discuss college plans as he'd laugh that jolly laugh of his that always made me feel right at home. But now things were much different between us; like I'd never known him or we'd ever been friends.
He walked over towards me and lifted the sleeve of my blue Nike jack to reveal the cuts lining my wrist. Some of the teachers gasped. I looked to see the reaction of my parents since this was the first time they've seen them, even though that's been happening for the last 3 months. My Dad's face only hardened more, my Mom buried her face in her hands.
"Mr. and Mrs. Roberts," Mr.Gwenth said with pity in his voice, "I'm sorry to say this, but your daughter is no longer suited to attend this school for the gifted arts. She will not be welcome here anymore."
At this point of course, my Mom bursts out crying. She went to this school when she was in high school. She was a legend at this place and she always used to gush about how proud she was of me to follow in her footsteps, and I was so glad to be the one to do it. Not anymore.
She was the lead in every musical, the top student in all her musical classes, she could play so many different instruments...she was a real prodigy. They thought I was too.
"Who are you?" Mr. Gwenth asked me in disgust, "You used to stand for what this school was made of! You used to inspire all who walked this campus!"
"Fuck you," I said sharply, "Fuck all of you."
He didn't need to make me feel like more of a piece of shit than I already did. He didn't have to dig me lower into this hole I created! Does he even know what I went through?!
"Mr. Gwenth," My Mom said with some edge to her voice, "You can't just"--
"Excuse me, Mrs. Roberts," He said interrupting her, "I understand how much you care for your daughter and how much you want her to succeed, but we will not accept her here anymore. Sherri will you please read the offenses?"
Sherri (the superintendent) stepped up all snobby with her clipboard as if she almost was enjoying herself in this little meeting. I rolled my eyes. There was probably stuff on that clip board that my parents had never even heard about before. Oh well, fuck it. Let them hear. Let them hear how much of a disappointment I am.
Sherri cleared her throat, "October 5th: broke the girl's bathroom mirror. October 12th: punched Brooke Samuels. October 30th: Was caught mutilating herself in the rehearsal room. November 3rd: Stole pills from the nurses' station. November 5th-8th: Cut class. November 16th: was caught mutilating herself by another student. November 20th: Refused to go to music theory class. November 21st: Failed all the exams that day. On purpose. November 30th: Cut class. December 1st: Was caught mutilating herself in the...."
The list just kept going and going and going. My record that used to be so clean and perfected was now soiled beyond repair. For a splint second, I was disappointed in myself. I saw the look on my parents faces as the offenses just got worse and worse...and the teachers who were so upset...some even crying.
And then that split second was over. Who even cares about any of this shit? It's not even worth it. I hope they ban me from this school, maybe then I can finally get the hell out of this place.
"....January 25th: was caught sleeping in the bathroom. February 7th: Tried to steal pills from the nurses' station again also, mysterious scratches were noticed around her throat.....and finally today, February 10th: Alcoholic beverages were found in locker."
"Well?" Mr. Gwenth said turning towards me, "What do you have to say for yourself Skye?"
Dad looked at me sympathetically, "Just tell them why you did it, Skye."
Dad was trying to be helpful and be on my side and understand me, but he really has no idea at all. He doesn't understand me. He doesn't even know why I've done what I've done. Neither does Mr. Gwenth. Neither does any of these people in this room. I have nothing to say for myself. They can kick me out of this school. See if I care.
They can all stand there around me watching me and analyzing me like I'm some damn monkey and they can all try and figure out what's "wrong" with me, but they will never understand. They can try as they will, but they will never.
"Just answer them," My Mom begged with those pleading blue eyes of hers, "Tell us what's going on. We only want to help."
Help? Yeah, right.
I refused to speak. They just stared at me.
"Very well," Mr. Gwenth said blandly, "Skye Roberts, you are no longer a student at Boston High School of the Musically Gifted. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, I suggest you seek help for Skye; mental help. She needs it."
I scoffed. They think I'm crazy, but they don't even understand.
1 year ago.
There is some sort of exhilaration of being on stage that just makes my heart soar, as cliché as that sounds, it's so true.
My heart pounds as I watch Derek say his lines on stage while standing behind the curtains on stage right. I listen oh so carefully for the one line he says "She can't tell me what to do", because when he says that, it's my cue to go on.
I love opening night so much...the crowd is so lively and awesome. And nothing beats that feeling when the audience laughs at a line you say...or they give you a standing ovation after singing a song. The feeling is unbeatable. Who needs drugs anyway? The adrenaline and the beautiful rush of being on stage is all I'll ever need.
I've been in musicals and shows since I can remember. Started taking dance lessons when I was 5, and now at age 17, I'm still taking them. I just love performing more than anything in this world. I want to be on Broadway someday.
But for now, I'll keep happily attending Boston Conservatory for the musically gifted.
"She can't tell me what to do!" Derek shouted and the audience roared with laughter.
I gulped and closed my eyes for a split second.
God, please help me do this.
I opened my eyes and stepped out onto the stage, and I became my character, "Mable". With every part of me; I gave my all. I wanted to be the best there was.
The only bad thing about musical theatre, is that it always goes by so fast. One moment I'm saying my first line, and then the next moment it's already time for the bows. And you wish you could do it all over again just one more time...just to take it all in one more time. The audience, the rush, the beauty of the moment...the acting, the singing, and the everything.
I thanked God as I bowed in front of the audience who immediately stood up in thunderous standing ovation. I couldn't have asked for a better life than this. Just doing what I love all the time.
Then comes the next best part, talking to the people who came to see you afterwards. And on this night, my Mom, Dad, and boyfriend Jessie had come. I was so excited to see them. I love it when Jessie comes because it always gives me that extra incentive to push myself to be better. I hope I impress him, because that's all I ever want to do. And of course impress the potential college and Broadway agents that come to see our shows.
I ran up to my parents and Jessie the moment I saw them. I was always worried when my parents and Jessie came to see me in stuff together because my parents completely and utterly hate him. They won't ever admit that they do, but it's so apparent. They always talk about how much they disapprove of him just because he's a mechanic and dropped out of high school. Whatever, he's my boyfriend and I love him. That's all that matters. And besides, he had to drop out of high school and get a job in order to help support his Mom. I think that's the most mature self-giving thing ever.
Jessie totally rocks the whole "I'm a bad-ass mechanic" thing. His hair is always this sexy shaggy look, and he dresses like a complete foot-loose greaser and I love it.
My parents however, loved to disapprove of everything Jessie does; including how he carries himself and what he wears. My Mom always says he looks like a "ruffian".
I run up and hug Jessie tightly and feel his strong arms wrap around me.
"You were amazing, Skye," He whispers softly in my ear, "As always."
I hear my Dad clear his throat and sigh and let go of Jessie and face my parents. I really hope they weren't giving him a hard time this whole night.
"Incredible," Dad said to me with a smile, "You were simply incredible."
"Oh and we saw college scouts!" Mom chimed in and beamed like no other, "College scouts for you!"--She sighed--"Your Father and I are so proud of you dear. Every time you get up on that stage...it's magic."
I blushed and looked down for a moment. "Thanks you guys. Thank you so much for coming."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Jessie said smiling at me.
I smiled back.
Then suddenly he shuffled his feet nervously and turned to my parents, "Mr. and Mrs. Roberts? Would it be alright if I took your daughter out to dinner tonight and have her back by 10?"
I crossed my fingers.
"Out to dinner?" Dad questioned suspiciously as he looked at the both of this, "And what exactly does that mean to you kids now-a-days?"
I groaned, "Daddddddd."
He was being completely overprotective and stupid. I've never been the rebellious type. I always get straight A's and do what I'm told. So my boyfriend wants to take me out dinner. And I can't go?! What did I do wrong?!
"Just out to dinner, sir," Jessie replied smoothly, "We'll be going to Isabella's. You know, that new restaurant on 5th street? You and the Mrs. can join us if you'd like."
I tried to hold back a smile. Jessie knew exactly what he was doing. The last thing my parents would ever want to do is join Jessie and I on a date.
"No, no," Dad said too quickly, "You go and have fun. But if she gets back home, a second later than 10..."
My Dad nodded seeming satisfied and thinking he had struck some fear in Jessie. But I knew better. Jessie had never been afraid of Dad, and I think that's another reason why my Dad doesn't like him.
My parents said their goodbyes to me, hugged me and said "congrats" 12 more times and then finally they left the auditorium. The second the door closed behind them, Jessie pulled me in by the waist and kissed me.
I didn't even care who saw. My smile was bursting through the kiss. You see, with Jessie working all the time, and with me at school a lot of the time...Jessie and I don't get to hang out as much as we'd like.
Jessie released from the kiss and smiled at me, "God, I've been dying to do that."
It was weird how Jessie and I met. I was getting my oil changed at his car place and didn't have enough money to pay for it. All the guys working there joked around with me and said I should "do them a favor" to help pay it off. One of them had heard of me and said I had to sing for them and they'd let me have it for free. I was so embarrassed but I did it. Jessie's mouth dropped to the floor when I did. That's when he asked me out. We've been dating for 9 happy months now.
As Jessie and I walked out of the auditorium, I was stopped by someone I didn't recognize.
She was a strange, artsy looking woman with chopsticks in her hair and shoes that were covered in colorful beads. She looked like she had created the whole outfit herself and I liked that. I love it when people break free of what society tells them to be and decides to be their own person. Unique people rock.
"You must be Skye Roberts?" The woman's sweetening voice said and she held out her hand to me.
I shook her hand, "Pleased to meet you. And you are"--
"I'm Grace Peterson," She said, "I've heard so much about you. You've got real talent, Skye. Your singing voice is impeccable and your acting is breathtaking."
"Well thank you," I said with a smile.
"But I'm not just some person here to tell you how great you are. I'm on the board of auditions and directors at Broadway, and we want you to come and audition for us."
I swear my heart stopped beating. Broadway. wanted. me?!?!?
I couldn't even comprehend that. That's my dream. That's all I've ever wanted.
"I don't even"--
"I know it's a lot to take in," She said and laughed a little at me being so flustered, "I just wanted to let you know we're scouting you. We'll contact you with further details."
I felt like I couldn't even breathe at that moment. I glanced over at Jessie who was amused at how baffled I was. He laughed and slung his arm around my shoulder.
"Skye, you're gonna be on broadway someday," he said, "My girl's gonna be on broadway."